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He returns my smile. “Me too, though I would like to remember it.” I crawl onto the bed next to him and his eyes close. “I need the bathroom,” he whispers.
I quickly jump off the bed. “Let me help you.” I grab his elbow to stabilise him as the nurse re-enters the room.
“Back to bed. You are too weak to be standing. When was the last time you ate, young man?”
He shrugs his shoulders. “Not sure.” My eyes close in regret. He doesn’t even remember eating—what in the hell has he been doing to himself? He lifts himself off the bed and scrunches his eyes closed in pain.
“What’s wrong?” I gasp.
“Headache,” he winces.
“That’s normal,” the nurse nods. I blow out a breath in relief.
“Ok,” I reply shakily. The nurse and I get on either side of him and help him up as he gingerly walks to the bathroom. I have never seen him like this. It’s frightening. So weak, so fragile. I can’t believe he nearly died just ten hours ago. I walk into the bathroom behind him as he falls onto the toilet, and I grab him for support. He sits silently with his head down and urinates. As I stand silently beside him it occurs to me that Joshua, my Joshua, would be pulling wisecracks in this situation normally. No way would he sit down to go to the toilet, not without a joke anyway.
He finally finishes and stands. “I need to shower.”
“Joshua, no, you are going back to bed,” I urge.
“I’m taking a fucking shower,” he snaps.
I beam a full megawatt smile. “That’s more like it,” I whisper. He raises an eyebrow in silent question at me. “There’s my difficult man,” I smile.
Half an hour later he is back in bed and I am feeling much better. After his little snap at me I know he is going to be ok—there isn’t a doubt in my mind. He lies with his head facing me as I lie next to him.
“Thank you for coming for me,” he whispers. “When did you find out?”
“At LAX airport.” He frowns at me, not understanding. “I was already coming to you Josh. You did this while I was in the air.” Should I tell him about the paternity?
His eyes widen. “I thought you said you didn’t want to see me again,” he frowns.
I kiss the back of his hand. “I’m so sorry, I never meant it. I was blinded from grief Josh. I felt as though I killed my father. I wasn’t thinking straight, you know I would have come back for you eventually. I have mourned the loss of you just as much as my father.” Nerves rise in my stomach. I need to tell him that we are not cousins. Is he strong enough yet? How do you tell someone this kind of information? My heart drops.
He looks down. “I thought you meant it.”
I shake my head. “I didn’t.” Maybe I will wait till he is stronger?
His eyes look to the roof and I can see his brain ticking. “Tash, I thought we were broken up.”
Why is he saying this? “Don’t you want me here, Josh?” I ask.
“How can you even think that? I love you more than life itself.” And then he frowns. “Stop fucking with my head. I swear to god, Natasha.” He starts to get worked up.
“Sshh, Josh I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, calm down. It’s ok, it’s ok.” I rise and gently kiss his face. “I’m not leaving again, I’m sorry baby.” He’s definitely not strong enough.
The nurse re-enters and takes his vitals. “I’m going to give you another relaxant, Joshua. Your heart rate has gone back up, just something to make you sleep, ok?” He takes a deep breath and nods and she injects another drug into his drip. I hold his hand and rub his forehead as he peacefully drifts off.
What must it feel like to be in a peaceful sleep? I haven’t had one for so long. I keep watch on the silent and still man beside me. On the outside I mirror his calmness; however, the inner turmoil inside my stomach has reached a whole new level. I‘m worried … actually that’s an understatement. I’m panicked. The harsh reality is that Joshua may very well be a cocaine addict. I know that, the doctor knows that. Everybody knows that. He has the motive … friends and escape and he has the means … unlimited funds. I have done extensive study on addictions as part of my psychology degree and I know it’s a very steep hill to climb to get out of an addiction black hole. Both for the addict and for the ones that love them. I close my eyes. How did it get to this? Was it really an accident or did he try to subconsciously kill himself without realising? What are the bruises all over him? He has a definite shoe mark on his body and I know that they don’t wear shoes in the fight ring. Who in the hell has he been fighting and where was Ben his bodyguard when it happened? I suppose that means nothing. Joshua got into a fight that night at the Ivy and Ben was there then. So it is possible. I have caused all of this havoc in his life. I wonder what his life was like before I came back into it. What if he has been taking cocaine all along and I didn’t realise—have I been that blinded by his love? Am I that stupid? After melting my brain with way too much thought I decide to ask both him and Cameron tomorrow separately and see how well their answers match up, and maybe even Adrian for that matter. I have a talent to tell when someone is lying and, boy, am I going to put it to use tomorrow. I eventually drift into an unsettled sleep after tossing and turning for hours. Maybe I should have got some of that relaxant put into my veins; I sure could bloody well use it.
I wake to the gentle dusting of lips on my temple and I cuddle into his chest.
“I love you,” he whispers. He pulls me into an embrace and wraps his arms around me. Mmm, I’ve missed this, missed him. I nuzzle into him and drift off as I listen to his breathe regulate. We are both exhausted. Too tired to acknowledge that he has crawled into my fold-up bed beside me, too relieved in the comfort of each other to care. The world could stop right now and I wouldn’t give a damn. I’m here with him and that’s all I need. How could I have ever thought I could deny myself this? It’s impossible and totally unrealistic—we couldn’t be apart. Not ever, I need him like oxygen, more than my next breath.
“Look how gorgeous they are,” I hear Adrian’s voice speak. I frown as I stretch to find Joshua wrapped around me like a blanket. He had even moved his IV so that h
e could lie with me in my bed. Adrian is standing with a cup of coffee and Cameron is lying on Joshua’s bed, reading the paper.
Oh crap. “How long have you been here?” I grumble as I stretch.
